Easy Way Out
by slovakia-chan
Summary: Lithuania reducing his unflattering suicide rate. Oneshot. Mostly serious with a drop of humor. I don't own Hetalia.


"How many?" I asked my boss as I poured her some coffee. Her face didn't reveal much, but she started to add sugar to her cup. She wasn't the kind to sweeten her coffee.

"31 per 100 000 population. Highest in the whole Europe," she answered, solemn.

 _Well, turns out there_ is _something I am best at,_ I observed bitterly. Of course I was aware - it was difficult not to. I felt every single one of them. As if little pieces of my body and soul were being plucked out. Filling my eyes with tears too small to be shed, too big to be ignored. It was just that, over centuries, I got so used to pain that I did not really linger on it anymore.

"But... this is honestly the best time to be alive," I pondered aloud. "Twenty-first century is so much better than the twentieth. Which was so much better than the nineteenth. And so on."

"You have to understand we mortals don't think like that."

Alright. Maybe I wasn't completely human, but some things I was familiar with. That infinite gloominess, for instance. Your sleep and appetite, for food as well as anything else, dissipating bit by bit. Hopeless weeks and months spent lying in bed because nothing's worth getting up for anymore. Until, one day, completely numb with the gray and cold, you throw yourself towards what your essence has always been running from.

I couldn't do that. I couldn't die by my own hand. Heaven knows I tried.

"What are your suggestions, then?"

"Well." She flipped through her file until she found the detailed statistics, then showed them to me. "As you can see, most victims are men. It makes sense, doesn't it? We women endure lots of injustice, go through lots of pain in life. But we can at least cry it all out. No one holds that against us. Men, on the other hand, don't know all the suffering around having children. Get higher wages for the same work. Hold more power. All that has a price, though. Failure is not an option in their world. And showing feelings, alas, is nowadays still considered a failure."

 _Absolutely._

"Sometimes, just getting things off your chest helps a lot," she went on. "You know that."

"There are helplines for that kind of thing. Let's hire more listeners."

"My team is already on it. Still and all, some people, for different reasons, don't reach out to others. Most often they are scared of being judged or think it's too late for them anyway. Those are the most threatened kind. And that's where _you_ come in."

"Me?" I felt my face tighten in confusion. "I'm sorry, but that's a part of everyone's personal freedom. I don't see what _I_ can possibly do about it."

"Think. You have a strong presence. They're a part of you, you're a part of them. Who on Earth could do it better than you?"

"Do what?"

"Reach out to them." She smiled.

* * *

I _did_ understand what she meant. I _did_ realize it was all extremely important. But I didn't know how to do it. I've always been rather shy. And having a heart-to-heart talk with a complete stranger (what's more, another _guy_!) just didn't seem imaginable.

But with him... The second I saw him standing on that bridge, lanky and vulnerable as I used to be, staring into the emptiness beneath... Well, it sort of came naturally.

I cleared my throat.

"Excuse me."

He turned to look at me. His features seemed stuck somewhere between boyish and manly, just like mine. And those eyes. They had a strange, golden color - the eyes of a wolf. I instantly liked him.

"Are you here to tell me there's so much worth staying alive for?" he half growled, grimacing with disgust.

"Pretty much." I shrugged and smiled.

"I don't have any family or friends, so your emotional blackmailing won't work. Go waste somebody else's time," he spat and went on contemplating the water.

"Death by jumping is a very quick process. Surely you could spare a few minutes for a free drink."

I rummaged in my grocery bag and extracted one of the freshly purchased bottles of mead. Despite himself, he licked his lips. I knew it would work. My centuries of drinking that thing genetically programmed him to like it.

We sat down on the ground. He took the first gulp and let his eyelids down for a while. Liquid happiness, somebody once called it.

"You see? That's just one of the good things in life - drinks. A cup of tea to put you on your feet in the morning. Warm milk to help you sleep. Or just some sparkling water when it's too hot outside. And food. A piece of good cheese. Some haring with pickles. Or _cepelinai. Cepelinai_ are awesome, right? Everybody loves those!"

 _...Or not,_ I thought as he crinkled his nose.

"I hate local food."

I forced myself to keep smiling.

"I see. Then try other cuisines," I suggested.

"Too expensive."

 _Hmm. This is going to be more complicated than I imagined._

"Have you thought of travelling? Discovering foreign cultures, not only food, can be very refreshing."

"I can't afford that."

"How about work and travel programs?"

"I would need to have at least a basic level in a foreign language."

"Then enroll in a class."

"I don't have the money."

 _Where's the will, there's a way. No will here, though,_ I observed. On the contrary, there was so much stubborn negativity about him that, after a while, I was completely losing my heart. Then, all of a sudden, he reached into his pocket and put his glasses on. People about to commit suicide always remove jewelry and glasses, God knows why. And he kept on drinking, too. Those were good omens.

"Come on." I gave his stiff form a playful nudge. "There must be something you enjoy in life. Basketball? Or some other sport?"

"I hate sports."

"Art?"

"Art's for pretentious snobs."

 _Well, thank you._

"This is a lame place. Full of lame people," the boy scoffed, thus munching on the last piece of my patience. Worse, I have my pride and he had just poked it. My hands clenched so tightly the nails dug into the palms.

"Admit it," he went on, "locals have always got pushed around, ruled over, beaten, humiliated and -"

"BUT WE'RE NOT QUITTERS! AND SUICIDES ARE FOR QUITTERS!" I suddenly roared in his face, banging my fists on the invisible table. He winced. "Why are you even here if you're so tough?!"

Silence.

"My boyfriend ditched me," he whispered a moment later. "But it's not like you can understand that, can you?!" _Fucking conformist,_ I could almost hear him mentally add.

"I can. I used to live with a man, too." He turned to look at me. For the first time, I actually felt like I caught his interest.

"What happened?"

"Well." I paused to think. "Lots of things. I slowly realized I wasn't happy in that relationship. For several reasons. And, in the meantime, I… I've been with a woman." I think I blushed a bit. "A certain blonde that lived in my house at that time. Fierce and gorgeous. She later broke my heart, yes, but that one night will stay with me forever. I just couldn't turn back anymore."

"Why's that?" He frowned.

"Mmm, you see." Intimacy has never been an easy topic for me, but we were emptying the second bottle now and that was considerably helping. And, all in all, love is something amazing. Why dirty it?

"Being with a person of the same sex certainly has its perks. For example, your bodies work more or less the same way. And the fact that it's forbidden makes it even better. You know what we guys are like. Forbid us something - anything - and we will practically kill to get it."

He nodded and flashed me the tiniest of smiles.

"But let me tell you, girls… that's a whole another story." I sighed in bliss. "They are so different from us! Perhaps that's what makes them so appealing. I mean, they smell so good! Somehow even their sweat does. And don't even get me started about the hair. When it's long, you know, really long, so long it brushes against their shoulder blades… It looks like a dreamy waterfall. When you bury your fingers in it, playing with it, drawing her face closer to yours. Aaah. And legs. They are so soft, like you're touching pure velvet! Oh, and when they're wearing high heels, not those big scary ones, but those small, cute ones that so nicely bring out their –"

I stopped and cleared my throat before I got too carried away.

"My point is, you can't have a complete picture of life before you've known a girl," I concluded, my heartbeat slowly getting to its usual pattern.

"Actually... I've tried before. It just… didn't…" He looked down, as if unexpectedly fascinated by his own shabby shirt. But I saw his expression. I'd seen it so many times before. Especially in my mirror.

"That's because you can't just jump into bed with _any_ girl!" I laughed. "Now, seriously. We all have our preferences. Trust me, when you find the right one, it will be over, under, in and out, from the back and from the front."

I nudged him again. He was now laughing with me.

"You know what? I think I'll give it a try."

I let him keep the rest of the bottle. Together, we crossed the bridge, then headed to our respective homes.

About a year later, I ran into him again. He was sitting on a bench near the same bridge, a cute brunette nestled up against him. They couldn't keep their grinning mouths off each other. A feeling of sweet warmth started to spread through me, like a cup of hot mead, only better.

The very same week, my boss was in my living room again.

"About the suicide prevention. It seems like you did a good job. Our population has actually risen somewhat!"

My insides were oozing with pride. Then, her tone changed.

"But that's not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about. As it happens, just on my way to your flat I met six single mothers. The strange thing is, all of the babies had golden eyes. That's not very typical around here, is it?"

Silence.

"So, now I have another challenge for you." I gulped. To say that I was having a bad feeling would have been the understatement of the year. But even my worst expectations weren't anywhere near the truth.

She put the travel bag she'd brought along on the table and extracted two baskets. One was filled with cucumbers, the other one with condoms.

"Planned parenting awareness."


End file.
